


Answered Prayers

by gammadolphin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Series, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:49:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammadolphin/pseuds/gammadolphin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night Sam received his acceptance letter from Stanford, he prayed for guidance. He just never expected that guidance to show up as a scrawny guy claiming to be his guardian angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was not the first time that Sam Winchester had prayed, but it was the first time that he had gotten an answer.

The eighteen year old hunter was sitting on the edge of the creaky bed, a spring digging into his thigh and a wrinkled letter resting on his knees. He had never felt like this; so proud and yet so scared, so eager and so uncertain. He felt like he was being torn apart, and he did not know what would be left of him whenever the inevitable split occurred. So he did the only thing that he thought might bring him some of the peace that he so desperately needed.

“So, it’s uh, been a while,” the young man began nervously, his eyes pinched shut and his hands clasped before him. “But I’ve been doing my best to do the right thing, and I think I’ve been doing well, all things considered. That has to count for something, right?”

He paused, feeling stupid. He was fairly certain that you were not supposed to try to talk God into helping you.

“Look,” he continued, shaking his head slightly. “I just…I need some guidance.”

He paused again, staring down at the letter in his lap. It was everything he had ever wanted, but it could mean giving up everything he had ever had.

“What do I do here?” he asked despairingly, tilting his face upwards. All he saw were the musty boards of the ceiling. “This is stupid.”

He let his hands fall into his lap, then got restlessly to his feet. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw, wishing that he could think of something else to do.

“Demonstrating one’s faith is never stupid,” said a low voice from behind Sam. The hunter whirled, reaching for a gun that he was not carrying.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked the dark-haired man standing before him. The stranger tilted his head to the side, confusion written across his features.

“I am the assistance that you prayed for,” he stated, as if that should have been obvious.

“I prayed for guidance,” said Sam. “Not a creepy model in a University of Chicago hoodie.”

“I am not a model,” the young man said. “I’m an angel of the Lord. And these garments are not mine.”

“You’ll forgive me if I have a little trouble believing that,” Sam said to the supposed angel, who looked like nothing more than an ordinary college student. “I’ve seen a lot of monsters in my time, and not too many good guys.

“And yet you still have not called to your father and brother for help.”

Sam froze. The man had him there. But an angel? A real, flesh and blood angel? Believing in God was one thing, but angels just felt different. Seeming to sense his doubt, the man gave Sam a small smile, before letting his face fall into lines of concentration and taking a deep breath. An impossibly beautiful and bright light began to pour from him, turning his eyes to stars and revealing the dark shadow of a set of massive wings.

The light faded and the man relaxed, but Sam remained frozen, rendered immobile by awe. He took a hesitant step forward, reaching out a hand before catching himself. He could not touch a holy warrior. He was not clean enough for that.

“Do you have a name?” he asked softly instead.

“Castiel,” the angel replied with a small smile.

“Castiel,” Sam repeated. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You don’t think you’re worthy of heaven’s attention?” Castiel asked, tilting his head again.

“Uh, not really, I guess,” replied Sam with a shrug. “I mean, my problems don’t really seem worthy of angelic interference.”

“You are more important than you think,” the angel told him earnestly.

“I don’t really think I want to be important,” said Sam with a nervous chuckle. “All I really want is to go to school and be normal for once.”

Castiel’s face was unreadable as he stared searchingly at Sam. Finally he sighed and sat on the bed, indicating for the hunter to do the same.

“Why do you want to be normal, Sam?” he asked. Sam laughed humorlessly.

“Castiel, I could write a book about why I want a normal life,” he replied.

“Then what is stopping you?” The angel seemed genuinely interested, for reasons that Sam could not fathom.

“It would mean leaving my family,” he explained. “And we’re kind of all that each of us has. I think I might have to choose between living the life that I want on my own, or living the life that I hate with my family, and I just…can’t.”

The angel was silent for a long time.

“It is mostly your brother that you’re worried about, is it not?” he asked at last.

“How do you know that?”

“As I said, you are more important than you think,” Castiel replied. “I have been watching you and your family for some time. I have witnessed the deep connection between you and Dean.”

“So you’re like a guardian angel?”

“Not exactly.” Castiel shifted slightly, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “I was assigned to monitor you, not to interfere. But I heard your prayer, and…I suppose it is not in my nature to ignore a cry for help.”

“Oh.” Sam was not quite sure how to respond to that. Why did he have an angel monitoring him? Surely not everyone had one, so what set him apart? “So you will help me?”

“If I can. But you seem to be asking me to tell you what to do, and I am not sure that would be in your best interest. This seems like a decision that you should make for yourself.”

“But why am I different?” asked Sam, desperate to understand. “I mean, I’m grateful that you’re here, but why am I so special that an angel was assigned to watch me?”

Castiel sighed.

“I find that I wish I could tell you, Sam,” he said solemnly. “But I can’t. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“I don’t want to get you into trouble,” Sam said quickly, suddenly concerned that Castiel would be punished because of him. The angel seemed surprised.

“You’re worried about me,” he stated, his tone tinged with disbelief.

“Well, yeah. I mean, won’t the other angels be mad at you if you’re breaking the rules? From what I’ve heard about you guys, it’s pretty strict up there.”

“I suppose that there would be consequences if I were caught,” said Castiel. “But there is no need to tell my superiors of this. I will be alright. Your concern is…touching, however.”

“Well, you’re one of the few people who has ever given a crap about me,” said Sam with a wry grin. “And I’ve been told by reputable sources that I worry too much.”

Said reputable source was Dean, who teased Sam about his constant worrying. Of course, that was right up until Sam got so much as a skinned knee, at which point Dean would launch into his full-on mother hen mode. But heaven forbid Sam make fun of him for it, or he would end up with a shampoo bottle full of Nair. Again.

“Perhaps.” Castiel paused for a moment, looking away from Sam. “You deserve more people who, as you say, ‘give a crap about you’,” he continued finally. “I have watched humanity and your family long enough to know that.”

“I think…I think that’s part of why I want to go to college so badly,” said Sam, dodging the rather overwhelming compliment. “I want to make friends that I can keep for more than a few weeks, maybe find a girl who I can create a stable life with.”

Stability. That was really the core of what Sam wanted. He was sick of feeling like he did not belong anywhere, sick of feeling like an outsider. He had spent his entire existence saving the lives of other people, and now he wanted a life of his own. He wanted to stay in one place long enough to become a regular somewhere, long enough to recognize some faces on the street. And he wanted to stop being constantly afraid of the things that went bump in the night.

“I think you should go to college, Sam,” said Castiel after a long pause. Sam looked over at the angel in surprise.

“You do?”

“I believe that it is the path on which you would be the most content.”

“But how can I fulfill some great destiny if I just go off and become some ordinary freshman? I mean, isn’t that why you’re watching me; to monitor my fate?”

Castiel sighed heavily, glancing away from the hunter again. Sam’s stomach dropped as realization dawned on him.

“I’m not supposed to be the good guy in all of this, am I?” he asked in a whisper. Castiel said nothing, but his obvious discomfort was answer enough. Sam jumped to his feet, one hand rising to run through his hair in distress. “You’re not here to watch over me, you’re here to make sure that I don’t…don’t what? What exactly is this big, evil fate of mine?”

“It’s alright, Sam,” said Castiel in what was probably supposed to be a soothing tone. It did not make the hunter feel much better. Because the angel was not denying the darkness of his future. He was not denying the deep fears that had been plaguing Sam for his entire life. Fears of being impure, unholy…evil.

“How can it be alright?” Sam shouted. “You’re telling me that I have a destiny so bad that an _angel_ has to keep an eye on me.”

“You are still the master of your own choices,” said Castiel earnestly, rising as well and taking a step closer to Sam. “I’ve seen you, Sam; I know you to be a good man. No one can force you to become something that you do not wish to be.”

“But what is that?” asked Sam, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had always worried about not being pure and good, but this? “You haven’t told me anything!”

“I’ve already told you more than I should. I did not come here to scare you; I came to offer my support. I refuse to believe that the evil in your future cannot be avoided.”

There it was. Confirmation that Castiel was there to make sure that Sam did not go darkside. For so long, the hunter had been concerned with doing the right thing, with maintaining a set of morals that his father and brother sometimes let slip. But how could any of that matter if destiny itself was fighting against him?

“Why let me live?” asked Sam quietly.

“What?” Castiel sounded surprised and disturbed.

“Look Castiel, if I’m supposed to be a big enough problem that a warrior of God has to watch out for me, wouldn’t it be simpler to just kill me?”

The angel looked stricken.

“Oh my God,” Sam breathed, taking a step backward. “You were supposed to kill me, weren’t you?”

“Sam-”

“Just tell me the truth!”

Castiel met the young man’s distraught gaze. Sam could see the conflict behind the cerulean eyes, and was suddenly unsure he wanted to know the truth after all.

“Those were my original orders, yes,” he admitted at last.

Sam suddenly found that his legs were no longer up to the task of supporting him. He collapsed back onto the bed, head in his hands. Heaven wanted him dead. What was he supposed to do with that? He could see Castiel out of the corner of his eye, standing next to him awkwardly. The angel looked like he wanted to comfort him, but had no idea how.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Sam whispered.

“You did not deserve a death sentence, Sam,” the angel said firmly. “That was apparent from the moment I saw you.”

That was not good enough for Sam. Apparently Castiel realized this, because he sighed again, putting a tentative hand on the hunter’s shoulder.

“You were twelve years old when I came to…to kill you,” he said quietly. “You were staying at the home of Robert Singer, and you were out in his scrapyard, playing by yourself. I was seconds away from smiting you, which would have been painless, by the way, when you saw something and started running. I could have caught you instantly of course, but I was curious to see what had caught your attention. I followed you to one of the old cars in the yard. You looked in the window, and I could feel the spark of a life from within the vehicle.”

“I remember that day,” said Sam softly. “A bird had gotten stuck in one of Bobby’s cars.”

“It was a starling,” Castiel told him. “You opened the door for it, but the creature had become ensnared in the frayed seatbelt. You spent twenty minutes extracting it so that it could fly away safely.”

“And that convinced you not to kill me?” asked Sam skeptically.

“I was stunned by the gentleness you displayed,” Castiel admitted. “I had been led to believe that you were a monster; cruel and unstable. But the boy I watched saving that starling did not fit that description. And he certainly did not deserve a death sentence. Not for a crime he had not yet committed.”

The angel paused, evidently lost in the memory of a day long past. A day that Sam had not thought about in years. That had been during those two lonely months that Dean had been lost, and Sam had spent hours by himself in Bobby’s scrapyard, missing his brother. His avian rescue had not seemed extraordinary to him. The bird needed help, he provided it, and they both moved on. But apparently that bird had saved Sam as much as he had saved it.

“The longer I observed you,” Castiel continued eventually, “the more convinced I became that my orders had been made too hastily. I could see no evil in you. I persuaded my superiors to let you live. They agreed, on the condition that I monitored you carefully. Since then, I suppose I have come to see myself as your guardian. I did not think that you would appreciate me making my presence known to you, but when I heard your prayer…I could not let another one go unanswered, not when you were so distraught.”

Sam was silent for a long moment after the angel had finished speaking. This angel had been listening to every single one of his prayers since he was twelve years old. The thought was slightly unnerving, but Sam could not help but be amazed that he really had been heard, that Castiel had been paying attention to him. He was even more astonished by the fact that the angel seemed to genuinely care about him.

“You saved my life,” he said eventually, testing out the idea.

“From myself,” returned Castiel. “That hardly seems heroic.”

“Whatever. Thanks anyway.”

The angel quirked a smile.

“You’re welcome, Sam,” he said solemnly.

Sam gave him a small smile before looking away towards one of the small windows in the dim room. When he had prayed for guidance, he had never expected his own personal guardian angel to come down and accidentally tell him about a dark destiny and heaven’s wrath. But given the strangeness of his life, he supposed that he should have seen it coming. And now he had to deal with it.

“If I go to college,” he began after a long pause, “will I avoid whatever the rest of the angels are afraid of? Will I stay…good? Will my family be safe?”

“I have no way of knowing that, Sam,” Castiel replied reluctantly. “But it does seem to be the safest route, for all involved.”

Sam nodded, picking up his acceptance letter from where it had fallen to the grimy floor. Castiel’s visit had placed a new weight onto his chest, but it had also given him a new sense of freedom. Maybe his decision to go to college did not have to be so selfish after all. Maybe what he wanted was actually the right thing to do.

“Right,” he said, determination growing. “College it is, then.”

“Are you sure?” asked Castiel. “I don’t want to influence your decision too much. You should have the right to make your own choices.”

“I’m sure,” Sam replied firmly. “This is what I want. Besides, I would hate for you to have to kill me later.”

“I would find that unpleasant, yes,” said Castiel seriously, making Sam chuckle. He was surprised that the angel did not have a better understanding of jokes if he really had spent the last six years following the Winchesters around. Of course, Sam would not really blame him for choosing to ignore Dean’s sense of humor.

“I should go,” Castiel added as Sam stood. “And you should tell your family about your decision.”

“Right,” said Sam, subdued. He knew that they were not going to take the news well. John would be angry and Dean would be hurt, but Sam would not tell them about Castiel and the unsettling information that he had shared. The older two Winchesters did not need to know about Sam’s fate, not if he was going to avoid it. There was no way that Dean would let him go if he thought that Sam was in trouble. “Thank you for coming, Castiel. I know it was a risk, but I really appreciate it.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Castiel told him sincerely. “I’ve been wanting to speak to you for a long time.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back?” asked Sam hopefully. He was excited for college, but nervous about being on his own. It would make him feel better to know that he had a friend standing by him, even one as bizarre as Castiel.

“I won’t leave,” Castiel promised. “It is still my job to watch over you. We may not be able to speak often though, per my orders.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said quickly. “It’s just nice to know that someone will be listening.”

Castiel gave the young man one last smile before vanishing with the slightest ripple of sound. Sam blinked, shaking his head at the strange turn the evening had taken. He could almost have believed that he had dreamed the whole encounter, but he found a single, jet-black feather tucked inside the envelope in which his Stanford letter had arrived. He gripped the feather tight, squared his shoulders, and steeled himself to deliver the news that would shatter his family. And hopefully keep them all safe.

ooooooooooooo

From her office deep within heaven Naomi frowned at the angel before her. Nathaniel had just reported Castiel’s unsanctioned visit to the young hunter in his charge, and Naomi was not pleased. Castiel had been under strict orders to make no contact with Sam Winchester, but he had ignored them because the child had gotten upset. Obviously the angel still could not be trusted to handle simple tasks that involved humans. Every time that he was exposed to those mewling mudcrawlers, he took pity on them, befriended them, and generally caused problems for the angels in command.

Naomi sighed, wondering what to do about this new situation. The Winchester boy could not be allowed to keep knowledge of the angels, but even if she had his memory scrubbed, Castiel, annoying little rebel that he was, would probably just visit him again. Which meant that she had two minds to wipe.

“Nathaniel, have Ion lead a squadron to collect Castiel and bring him here,” she ordered sharply. She was not looking forward to digging into that stubborn head again, but she had no other options. Castiel’s garrison would notice if he went missing permanently. But that did not mean that she could not vent her annoyance on the angel that had been causing problems for her since the day he strapped on his wings.

“Should I assign a new angel to watch Sam Winchester?” Nathaniel asked, wincing in sympathy for what he knew that his brother would go through at Naomi’s hands.

“No,” said Naomi derisively. “He is unworthy of heaven’s resources. Let him go to college and live out the rest of his meaningless life. Just make sure he doesn’t remember who got him there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, and Nathaniel?”

“Yes?”

“Ensure that the other angels know the consequences of associating with the Winchesters.”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam almost brought it up on the pier, but he could not bring himself to push the words out of his mouth. He was too tired, too broken, _hurting_ too much as the rain fell harder and harder and still he did not move. Castiel just stood beside him, saying nothing. His presence was a comfort, but it also added to Sam’s confusion.

He had been leaning motionlessly against the wooden railing for more than half an hour before Cas finally spoke.

“Are you all right, Sam?” he asked gently, placing a hand on the hunter’s shoulder.

Sam huffed a breath that was too tired to become a bitter snort.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” he muttered, quoting the angel’s words from years ago, during the height of the apocalypse. Castiel sighed and let his hand drop.

Of course Sam was not all right. Not only had he been an unwitting ‘angel condom’, as Dean had once put it, but he had been used to kill one of his only remaining friends, the young man that Sam had sworn to himself he would protect, would save from being another casualty in this endless war. Try as Dean might to convince him otherwise, Kevin’s death was his fault. Another life weighing on his soul.

And then, of course, there was Dean himself. Sam was having trouble processing the depths of his brother’s betrayal. Dean had lied to him before, but this was on a whole new level. Dean had known that Sam was ready to die, but had still tricked him into letting himself get possessed by another angel. And not just any angel either. As far as Sam could tell, Gadreel was the one angel who was actually worse than Lucifer, the one who had screwed things up in the first place.

It would have been funny, if it weren’t so damn tragic. The devil, the destroyer of the universe, and the king of hell had all possessed Sam. The worst of the worst, and he had hosted them all. He wanted to inject himself with bleach, to purge the taint from his already corrupted system.

But he could not, and he would never be able to. And now he did not even have his brother to help him through it.

He understood why Dean had done what he did. He knew the raw panic and desperation of losing his brother, knew why Dean had not been able to let him go. But he could not forgive him for it; not yet. Nor could he forgive himself for letting Dean talk him out of closing the gates once and for all. But that did not mean that it hadn’t hurt to see his big brother walking away from him and knowing how utterly and devastatingly broken the man was.

The silence stretched on and on between Sam and Castiel. It was only when the rain had stopped and they were both soaking wet that Cas spoke again.

“We should go home, Sam.”

Home.

Sam had no idea what that word meant anymore. Dean had wondered why he had so stubbornly refused to call the bunker that, and now here was the reason. Any home, any stable and contented life that Sam tried to create eventually went to hell one way or another. Including his home at Stanford.

“I remember you,” Sam said abruptly. Castiel looked confused.

“Why would you have forgotten me?” he asked. “We’ve been friends for years.”

“Yeah, but I remember you from before that,” Sam said, not looking at the angel. “I went to college because of you.”

Castiel sighed, confirming Sam’s suspicion that he knew exactly what the hunter was talking about.

“How long have you known?” the angel asked.

“How long have _you_?” returned Sam heatedly, rounding on his friend. “You had orders to _kill_ me, Cas, but you saved my life and watched out for me and answered my prayer and told me to go to school, and then you were just _gone_. An angel came to me the night after I moved into my dorm room at Stanford and wiped my memories. I met you seven years later and you didn’t say a damn thing. Hell, you treated me like demon spawn for the first few months. I’ve had enough of the lies, Cas, so just tell me the truth. Were you in on it? Were you one of the people who’ve been manipulating me my entire life?”

Castiel had remained silent throughout Sam’s tirade, but at the last question he looked up, his expression akin to the one that had been on his face when Sam had asked him if he had intentionally raised him from hell without a soul. Sam relaxed by a fraction, realizing that Cas was sincerely hurt by the idea that Sam thought his friend had been playing him.

“Of course not, Sam,” the angel said earnestly.

“Okay, Cas,” said Sam, looking away from his friend. The last thing he wanted was to alienate another member of his miniscule family, but after what Dean had done, how could he take anything for granted? “I’m sorry.”

Castiel nodded his acceptance of the apology, before giving Sam and explanation.

“Everything that I said at our first meeting was true,” he said. “I had intended to keep an eye on you; make sure that you had gotten to college safely and then check in on you periodically, as I had been doing in the years before that. I had hoped, foolishly I now realize, that you could have that normal life you so desired. But a few days after we talked, I was ambushed by three soldiers from another garrison. They took me to Naomi, and she…”

Castiel trailed off, and Sam shuddered at the realization that his friend had been tortured because of him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again. Cas gave him a tired smile.

“It wasn’t your fault, Sam.”

He was wrong, of course, but Sam was not going to call him out on it. He just waved for the angel to continue.

“Anyway, Naomi made me forget about you, and remember my duties to heaven. I did not have any contact with your family after that, until I was sent to break Dean out of hell. I knew of you, of course. You were something of a talking point in the garrison. I just never imagined that I actually knew you personally. I assure you Sam, we were on the same level for the progression of our friendship. I did not grow close to you because of ulterior motives.”

“I believe you, Cas,” Sam said softly. “I do. But when _did_ you remember?”

“The day I first laid hands on the angel tablet and freed myself from Naomi’s control. I still don’t know how many memories she stole from me, but I remember some of them. I remember you.”

“Why didn’t you just _tell_ me?” Sam demanded, really and truly sick of all the deception, even if it was just by omission. “If it wasn’t enough to stop you from taking off with the angel tablet, you could have at least told me everything after you came back, when you were staying with us in the bunker.”

Castiel sighed.

“I thought about it, believe me. It felt wrong to keep it from you. But I had no way of returning your stolen memories to you. I didn’t want you to have to take my word for it.”

“I would have believed you, Cas.”

“I know,” Castiel said quickly. “But it was more than that. I was afraid…”

“Of what?”

“That you would hate me.”

Sam stared incredulously at the angel.

“Why the hell would I-?”

“You said it yourself, Sam; I was responsible for you going to college. That means I am partially responsible for the death of Jessica Moore.”

Sam’s mouth fell open.

“You really think that Jess’s death was your fault?” he asked. “Cas, that is not on you! It’s on Azazel, and Lucifer, and Brady, and me, but not you.”

“You would never have met her if not for me,” Castiel insisted.

“Cas, you gave me the courage and confidence I needed to make my own way in life. It’s my fault that the way I chose has resulted in so many deaths.”

Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Sam raised a hand to cut him off.

“Cas, please,” he said, the exhaustion that had been eating at him truly starting to set in. “ _Please_ don’t put this on yourself. I don’t blame you, and I sure as hell don’t hate you. And right now I need you.”

Castiel nodded, but Sam could still see the sorrow in his eyes. Of course, that could have been due to other, more recent events.

“Let’s get you back to the bunker,” Cas said, and Sam appreciated the fact that he did not call it home this time. “You should rest.”

Sam could not argue with that. He felt like a herd of elephants had hosted a party and used his body as the dance floor. So he nodded to his friend.

The angel took Sam by the arm, helping to support his weight as they walked back to the car that Cas had acquired. Sam fell into the passenger seat while Castiel slid behind the wheel. Sam leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the rain-speckled window. Then he frowned, looking down at his clothes, which were inexplicably dry, though they had been dripping with water a few moments ago. He looked over at Cas, who just shrugged.

“You would have gotten cold,” the angel said by way of an explanation.

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

They drove in silence for a while before Castiel repeated the question that Sam had ignored earlier.

“How did you find out about our forgotten interaction?”

Sam grimaced. While the memory of Cas was pleasant, the means by which he had recalled it were not.

“Apparently having an angel and a demon crawling around in your head shakes some things loose,” he said, his voice tinged with a trace of bitterness. “I guess when Crowley was poking through my brain, he uncovered the memory that Naomi had her lackey bury, and when I took back control from…Gadreel,” the name caught in Sam’s throat, choking him momentarily, “it came back to me, along with all the other memories he stole from me.”

“I see.”

They let the silence fall between them again. The misery that Sam had been trying so hard to ignore was clawing at his chest, fighting its way up his throat. He felt the prickle of tears in his eyes, and he turned his head away from Cas, hoping his friend would not see as they began to fall silently.

“I’m sorry that you’re hurting, Sam,” he said gently. “And I understand why, but you can’t blame yourself for this. None of it is your fault.”

Sam shook his head.

“You should have just killed me when you were told to,” he said, his voice lifeless. “If I’d died when I was twelve-”

“This planet would be so much the poorer for it,” Castiel interrupted. “Truly.”

Sam snorted.

“Cas, even if you overlook _all_ of the other crap I’ve pulled in my life,” he said, “which is really a lot, by the way, I _killed Kevin_. It may not have been my brain, but it was my body, and Gadreel wouldn’t have been able to get close to Kevin if it wasn’t for me.”

Castiel’s grip tightened on the wheel, body tense with frustration.

“Fine,” he said at last. Sam turned to look at him, mildly hurt. It was one thing for Sam to blame himself, but for Cas to agree…

“Fine,” the angel said again. “If you claim responsibility for Kevin’s life, you must also claim responsibility for mine.”

Sam winced, remembering the day, a lifetime ago, when he had been possessed by another angel. He remembered snapping his fingers and watching Castiel explode into nothingness. But apparently that was not what his friend had been referring to.

“If Kevin is dead because of you, then I am alive because of you,” the angel continued, his eyes never leaving the road. “Dean told me that Gadreel brought me back to life after the reaper stabbed me. That was also your body.”

“Yeah,” said Sam slowly. That had been one of those memories that he had reclaimed from Gadreel. When Cas had been killed by April, Gadreel had used part of his weakened grace to heal the fallen angel.

“I’m not saying it’s an even trade,” Castiel went on. “Kevin probably deserved life more than I did. But it is something to remember.”

The angel left it at that, for which Sam was grateful. The reminder had not exactly made him feel better, but it had given him more to think about. Because Gadreel had saved Charlie too, when she had been killed in the bunker by that witch. Sam hated feeling grateful for anything connected to Gadreel, but he could not deny that two of his closest friends were still alive because of the angel.

And another one was dead.

Sam sighed, choosing to let his exhausted being slip into the relative peace of unconsciousness, rather than continuing to wrestle with his impossible and heartbreaking thoughts.

ooooooooooooo

“Sam.”

Castiel’s gentle voice pulled Sam from his fitful sleep. He blinked his eyes open, wincing as he moved his stiff neck. He looked around, realizing that they were not in the garage of the bunker, but in a brightly lit gas station. He looked back to Castiel, whose gaze was apologetic.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” the angel said. “But I believe the car is out of fuel again. Dean took care of this last time, and he didn’t have the time to show me how to do it properly.”

“That’s all right, Cas,” said Sam, sitting up and pulling the car door open.

He truly did not mind being woken up. His dreams had been plagued by the sight of his own hands on Kevin’s head, burning the life out of the young. He fished his wallet out of his pocket.

“Here, let me show you how to fill up the tank,” he said, and Castiel followed him to the pump. As Sam was showing the angel how to put gas in the car, a thought occurred to him. “Weren’t you working at a gas station for most of this time?” he asked.

“Yes, but I worked in the store, and I never had a car. Dean taught me how to drive when he came to work the case of the Rit Zien angel that was killing unhappy people, but he never showed me how to refuel.”

Sam glanced at his friend, wondering if he realized that he had just exposed another one of Dean’s lies. His brother had told him that he had not even seen Cas while he was working that case, even though the angel had been the one to give Dean the tip. Sam supposed he understood though. He knew the ultimatum that Gadreel had given to Dean, and he was glad that the older hunter had not abandoned his friend entirely despite it.

Shaking off the thoughts of Dean, Sam returned to teaching Cas how to complete one of life’s necessary tasks. He also gave his friend one of his credit cards, in case he ever needed money when he was on his own.

Once they got back on the road, it only took about half an hour to get back to the bunker. Sam could barely keep his eyes open as Castiel cut the engine, climbing out of the car. When the angel realized that his friend had not moved, he walked around to Sam’s side and pulled his door open.

“I think I’ll just sleep here,” Sam muttered, every muscle in his body screaming in protest at the idea of moving.

Castiel sighed, leaning forward. Before Sam knew what was happening, he had been scooped into the angel’s arms and was being carried through the garage and into the bunker itself. He was at least four inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than Cas, but apparently angel mojo had its perks.

“Cas, what-?” Sam protested weakly, but his friend cut him off.

“Just rest, Sam,” the angel told him.

Sam did not have the strength or inclination to argue. He let himself be carried, more like the twelve year old he had been when Castiel first met him than the ancient man he was now. And while he knew that he might feel awkward about it in the morning, at that moment he was just grateful that he did not have to keep putting in the effort to hold himself upright and together, grateful for the gentle hands that deposited him in his familiar bed and smoothed the covers over his bone-weary body.

“It will only get better from here,” Castiel promised. Sam looked up at him, not sure if he believed him, but desperate for the hope that his words provided. The angel looked back at his exhausted, shattered friend, and sighed. “Would you like me to stay?”

Sam nodded, and Cas gave him a small smile. The angel leaned against the wall, arms folded in front of him as he faced the door to Sam’s room.

Sam let his eyes close, feeling safe with the knowledge that his guardian angel was back on the job.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. In my mind, this fits in with the canon series, though it is extremely unlikely that the writers had this in mind. Oh well, I can dream... In case it was not clear, Cas is dressed like a college student because I figured that Jimmy Novak would be a college student, or just out of college at the time. I picked the University of Chicago simply because it is in Jimmy's home state.


End file.
